Dolores Landingham
Early life Dolores Susan Narragan was born to a Muggle father, Jeffrey, and witch mother, Sofia, in Silver Bay, in upstate New York, on October 25, 1946, a Baby Boomer. Sofia came from a long line of Romanian Gypsies, but passed none of her coloring on to her only daughter, although she did give her a mark perhaps more lasting, the gift of the Seer. David, Dolores' younger brother, on the other hand, displayed every possible element of brooding Slavic charm and dark good looks his mother's genetics could offer, although his placid nature was extracted pure from his father. Dolores was a big sister from the word go, and her talent displayed itself in any number of minor (and less so) disasters "felt" and averted as David grew into a man to make the family as a whole proud. Dolores herself was a wonderful student at Salem Institute, but that couldn't compare with the BMOC status her little brother enjoyed, and in that overwhelming shadow her social skills failed to keep pace with her academic achievements. Dolores wasn't a player, or even a cheerleader, in the football game of life. She was the sad, amateur statistician with the binoculars, way up at the back of the bleachers, trying not to hear the incessant giggles and moans beneath her, pressing her eyes to the eyepieces and trying desperately to will herself into the heart of the action. But that was not to be. Adolescence Both Dolores and David graduated, and their parents attended, and waved and smiled, but she couldn't help noticing that they only brought the 8mm camera the second time. It hurt in places she thought long numbed, but that wasn't the time or place to talk of such things, and a young lady never raised her voice to her parents. Despite the "flower power" blossoming all around, Dolores was, very much, a young lady in that 50's sitcom, "Father Knows Best" perfect world style, and she repressed whatever disillusionment she felt, made it the undertow to power the watermill of her own ambitions, and set about getting qualified as a Muggle secretary, as that was the only "acceptable" career her parents could envision - until she married, of course. The break Dolores didn't marry - instead she had an affair with her boss, which produced a love child, and a schism in the family, not in that order. David, for once, demonstrated that he was a vertebrate, and not merely a party animal and "good guy", by ignoring his mother's orders to cut all ties with the "creature who has brought shame to this once proud name", i.e. his sister. Her new daughter, Sarah, was an unalloyed joy, the like of which Dolores had never believed she would feel, and David was as caring a "co-parent" as any Hollywood romcom could have conjured up, and so Dolores' life entered a whole new phase, with an utterly unexpected focus - her child. It was not to last. Instinct wrenched Dolores from her workplace, and rammed her foot on the gas pedal all the way home, but she only got there in time to cradle her five-year-old's body as the EMTs told her of the drunk driver, and tried vainly, for the fourth time, to find some vestige of life in the broken remains of Dolores' light. Her daughter's favourite stuffed toy was a pet beaver, and presumably her Patronus takes its form from this. The aftermath Dolores and her brother broke off all ties with their parents, since Dolores blamed her mother for the lack of someone to watch Sarah at the crucial moment, and backed David into a "them or me" corner. David found work as a model for an advertising agency, and their secretarial pool was taking on new staff as well. Without the "distractions" of a home life of any caliber, and showing an "uncanny knack" for predicting trends and avoiding pitfalls, within two years Dolores was secretary to the President of the company himself. This too, did not last, however, as the President was foolish enough to boast to his "good friend" the Governor of the treasure he had found to run his office, and the Governor, in the grand tradition of his Robber Baron forebears, swept in and carried off the prize, hiring "Mrs. Landingham", as she now styled herself, out from under his nose, and taking full advantage of her infallible advice. Said advice often stemmed from reading reports, or rather between the lines in reports, as the written word provided Dolores with a focus for her otherwise unruly talent. It was at this point, and out of concern for her increasingly eye-catching profile, that the American Democracy of Magic, in the form of the Black House, stepped in, and removed all trace of Dolores and David from the Muggle world, absorbing them into the depths of the building. David became a glorified receptionist, but since no one ever has told him that, he experiences immense job satisfaction, and continues to live with his sister. Dolores, on the other hand, was faced with a number of unpalatable truths. The Black House The first among these was that she had been prostituting, and squandering, her talent on tiny, insignificant business deals, rather than using it for the betterment of life, as she'd always told herself she would. She also discovered that, when focused, she could either see occasional, uncontrollable and often indecipherable bits of great events, or else a clear stream of images, with details, referring to her immediate, near mundane, surroundings. She decided to pursue the latter course, and can now organize any boss's day down to the minute, inform them a quarter of an hour ahead of any upcoming glitches, and generally make the average Marine Master Gunnery Sergeant look like a slacker. She does not, however, win any popularity contests in offices she works in. Nonetheless, most bosses willingly overlook that for the Swiss timepiece precision and efficiency she brings to the workplace. Work and home She goes home to socialize with her brother, who is likewise her only friend - colleagues are . . . just that. Since her recent appointment, she spends close to twenty hours a day guarding the door to the Square Office from her nook. She lives entirely for her job now, rarely seeing more than the bedroom and bathroom in her own place. Dolores' near obsessive focus on the well-being of the President and the nation is causing a general darkening in her prognostications. She is beginning to believe she might outlive Richards, a scenario she would do almost anything, including throwing herself in front of a Killing Curse, to avoid. She is atypically perturbed by the apparent reappearance of Diana Dawson, Richards' former PA. Dolores was also thrown by Einar Faris' death, since the man had seemed far too competent to be taken out by a single, ordinary enemy soldier like that. It has heightened her belief that she can count on nothing. Post War Dolores is beginning to wonder what, if any, place she has in the Black House when efficiency is no longer an automatic and inevitable matter of life and death for many. She potters around her nook, but seems listless to any who might be paying the slightest attention. With John Edwards' departure from office, she has slipped silently into retirement, shunning any and all offers. Appearance Dolores has shoulder-length blonde hair and green eyes. She dresses in a rather austere manner, always formal, ever correct. She prefers subdued colors, and wears minimal make-up. She seeks to blend with the furniture and background, as far as possible. She wears glasses all the time while moving around, but prefers to remove them at her desk. It is a tiny and exceptional vanity. Wand Cherry and Graphorn Horn, 8 1/2 inches. Flexible, but not swishy. Dolores' internal dialog This is, essentially, how she sees her own existence. Category:Harry Potter Category:Female